


No Comparison

by laloga



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-01 00:15:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1038061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laloga/pseuds/laloga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An exploration of two very different relationships for one of my OC clones, Traxis.  Other OCs featured are the clone Blaze, and the Twi'lek Ares. Very slashy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you are familiar with my other work, you'll probably recognize the clone Traxis and the Twi'lek, Ares. Blaze has been mentioned in "Stark Raven," (see my other AO3) works, and Jade-Max's amazing WIP, "Trial By FIre." PM me, or check out my FFN page for the link to TBF. :) 
> 
> Reviews and comments are welcome. :)

**No Comparison**

 

_During the first year of the Clone Wars..._

 

It was late, very late, and Traxis was asleep. 

 

Well, _almost_. 

 

Despite his bone-deep weariness in the hours after the battle, he felt wide awake and wired, as if the adrenaline that had coursed through his veins – keeping him attentive for the duration of the fight – had refused to abate, even after a meal and a shower, which were both normally enough to alert his body to the fact that it was time to rest. As it was, he only managed to toss and turn beneath the gray, standard-issue blanket, alternately hot and chilled, and filled with some unnamed restlessness. 

 

Finally he exhaled deeply and laid back, thinking that maybe if he held still he'd be able to will his body to sleep, hopefully one that was dreamless. His head turned to the side and he winced at the sensation of fabric skimming across the scar on his face, which was still painfully new. It was a reminder that he was lucky, or something like it. 

 

Not that he felt that way very often. 

 

Several minutes later, when he realized that the holding-still-and-hoping plan wasn't working, he frowned to himself and twisted over on his other side, staring out at the rows upon rows of identical bunks that lay before him. From the soft sounds of breathing and the occasional snore, he could tell that the others in his section were sleeping, and he felt a flare of jealousy at the realization.

 

“Trax.”

 

It was barely a whisper, a voice so like his own but so very different. Traxis tilted his head up to see a familiar form standing over him. He swallowed. “Blaze?” 

 

The other trooper knelt down to Trax's eye level, his own light-brown eyes filled with intent and an expression on his face that made the scarred clone's groin flush. He knew that look very well. 

 

Blaze grinned at him and thumbed the door that led to the showers. “They're empty right now. I want to fool around.”

 

It was late and despite his restlessness Trax really was tired, but at Blaze's words he knew what it was he needed. He always did sleep better after an orgasm, after all, so he nodded and slipped out of his bunk to follow the other clone to the showers. Neither one turned on the light, but there was a dim, ambient glow coming from one of the panels in the wall that contained the comm speakers. Trax thought to ensure that the panel wasn't on to broadcast, as he'd heard happen to others who weren't careful, and glanced over at Blaze, who was leaning casually against the outer wall of the nearest shower, eying him.

 

Most people who met Blaze thought that he'd been so named because of his specialization, a flame trooper, one of the soldiers who wielded the bulky, BT X-42 flamethrowers. Trax had handled the weapons once or twice and knew that the BTs were heavy bitches, which accounted for the fact that Blaze was significantly more bulky in his arms and upper body than most of the other clones. 

 

But Trax knew the real reason behind the nickname. 

 

“What're you doing all the way over there, Trax?” Blaze's voice was dark with need, and Traxis shrugged. 

 

“Muting the comm. Don't want a repeat of what happened to Silver and Varny the other night.”

 

Blaze nodded and tilted his head, beckoning. His hand was already within his sleep-pants, stroking himself, and Trax felt his own cock hardening in response, so he stepped forward and stood before the other man, wondering, as he often did, how to begin. It was always strange for him, the beginning. Once he got going, instinct or hormones or whatever kicked in and things went smoothly, but the start was always difficult.

 

Sensing his hesitation, Blaze let out a sigh before reaching forward to slide Trax's pants down. “I swear...you're such a coward sometimes, Trax. It's not like we have to be _shy_.” He glanced down at the scarred clone's swollen dick and grinned. “At least you seem ready.”

 

“You too,” Trax replied, tugging at Blaze's pants as well, slipping them down to reveal an organ that was about as close to his own as anything could be, and then reached forward to kiss the other man. 

 

Blaze went along with it for a minute, and at first it was pleasant; Trax liked the feel of his fellow trooper's mouth moving beneath his while their hard lengths pressed against one another. Absently, he reached his hand up to skim through the shock of blond in other man's dark hair, just above his right temple, that had given him his name, and couldn't suppress a soft groan of pleasure at the action. 

 

The noise seemed to startle the Blaze, who pulled back and eyed Trax with speculation. “Enough of that,” he growled, shaking his head and pushing the scarred clone back a few steps, clutching at Trax's hips to turn him around. “I need to get off, already.”

 

“Yeah, me too,” Trax replied, taking a few steps forward to the sink's edge, where he braced himself and glanced behind him to watch the other man step out of his pants. “No shower?”

 

“The water makes too much noise,” Blaze grunted, settling his hands on either sides of Trax's ass and giving an incongruously gentle squeeze. “You worried about it hurting?” 

 

Sometimes he couldn't keep up. The other man seemed to spin through moods at the speed of light, but there was something about the feel of Blaze's stiff cock as it probed his entrance that made the scarred clone's knees grow weak. 

 

To conceal his emotion, Trax snorted. “What's with all the chatter? I thought you needed to get off?”

 

“Then shut up,” Blaze murmured in his ear, his voice sending a thrill up Trax's spine. “And take it like a man, Traxis.” 

 

There were a few moments of pain, as there always were, but even they reminded Traxis that he was alive and not lying in the mud with a blaster bolt through his skull; he was _alive_ , and that was all that he wanted to know, right now. Blaze let out a quiet grunt of satisfaction as he began to thrust inside the scarred clone, who had finally convinced his body to relax just a bit and allow the other man greater ease of access. 

 

Bracing himself along the edge of the sink, Trax felt the pain recede further still, ebbing away to pleasure, and his own cock was rock-hard in anticipation. Trax knew that if he were to let go of the sink's edge and take matters into his own hands, he'd likely topple right over into the sink, so forceful were the other clone's motions. 

 

He let out a hiss, then a groan that was punctuated by the other man's name, and idly wondered if Blaze would understand. If he did, he didn't do any thing about it other than pump away, harder, faster, his hands on Trax's waist and his breath coming in fast spurts against the back of the scarred clone's neck. 

 

Knowing Blaze, he wouldn't last long, so Trax took a breath and spoke, his voice jagged due to the other trooper's violent motions. “Help me out?”

 

“After,” Blaze managed to choke, then his hands tightened around Trax's torso and he let out a strangled sort of moan as he emptied himself into the scarred clone. 

 

Trax's own cock was pulsing with unspent need and the moment he thought that Blaze had recovered enough to speak he tried to twist around, meeting the other clone's eyes for an instant. “My turn.” There was a sudden, sliding sensation and he felt the flame trooper slip out of him; turning, Trax could see that Blaze was swaying in place, his softening organ glistening in the dim light of the 'fresher. “Here,” he added, reaching down to grip Blaze's cock. “I can get you going again. No sense in just one of us having all the fun.”

 

Seeming to have recovered, Blaze shrugged and stepped away, reaching for his discarded pants and stepping into them again. “Look, I'm pretty beat. How about I owe you one?”

 

“That's not-” Trax frowned; he was aching at this point, and his thoughts were muddled, but there was something wrong with Blaze's words. It was unlike him to leave in the middle of a meet-up like this. “You have a date or something?”

 

Though the words were spoken in jest, Trax felt a flicker of warning when the other trooper didn't reply, instead freezing for a second as he seemed to gather his thoughts; a moment later Blaze cleared his throat and moved back over to Traxis; he pressed himself flush with the scarred clone's body and kissed him deeply, reaching down to cup his ass, which caused Trax to let out a groan, all suspicion fleeing from his mind with the renewed flare of arousal. When they parted, Blaze gave him a wide smile. “You're resourceful, Traxis. I'm sure you can figure it out.”

 

Traxis' cock was practically begging for the other trooper, but his voice refused to work, other than to blurt out Blaze's name again, followed by: “What's going on?”

 

More hesitation. Blaze's eyes looked at Trax's forehead and he frowned for a moment before shrugging again and reaching down to stroke the scarred clone enough to bring about a shudder and a gasp. 

 

“You're so suspicious. And kind of a prude, but it's why I like you, Traxis.” The words were spoken just above a whisper Trax's ear, and the scarred clone let out another involuntary gasp at the combined actions. “I will ask one favor of you, though,” Blaze added, still running his hands along Trax's cock as he spoke in a conversational tone, his smile transformed from pleased to positively wicked. “Think about me while you're rubbing it out, will you?” 

 

And then he was gone, and Trax was left to his own devices.


	2. Chapter 2

_A few years later, about one month after the fall of the Republic..._

_Shab_ , he was tired.

Not sleepy, just fatigued and hungry, and as such he just wanted some peace and quiet. It'd been a long day aboard the Jedi praxeum ship, the _Chu'unthor_ , and while Traxis was glad to help out any way he could, right now he wanted nothing more than to lie in his bed and not get up for a few days.

At least on this ship he had a cabin to himself. Traxis sighed and wondered how long it would be before he found the energy to go take a shower. At least he'd managed to get undressed – mostly.

His eyes closed and for a moment he listened to the hum of the _Chu'unthor's_ sublight engines; the massive vessel was at rest right now, but he figured before too long it would be on the move again. He knew the rest of his family – his brothers and various Jedi – were probably in the mess-hall, as it was dinnertime, but he was...well, he was hungry, too, but he was also tired and in a mood, the dark kind that made him want to punch something, like a wall or Crest's face.

There was only one person who wouldn't annoy the piss out of him right now, but Ares was probably light-years away. Of course, the empty cabin would have been better if Ares was here, too, but the Twi'lek had not yet returned from his own mission to drop off a group of refugees at their new home. When he was around, they'd spent most of their time on the _Stark Raven_ , Ares' freighter that also served as his home, as well as the place that he and Trax had shared some pretty good times, so far.

An image of the coral-skinned male lying beside him, running his hands through Trax's hair and smiling settled in his mind, and he exhaled deeply.

 _Kriff, do I miss him?_ He'd only known Ares a month or so...was it weird to miss someone after only knowing them for so short a time? Probably. Okay, so he missed the sex – which was frequent and amazing, his favorite kind – but that wasn't all he missed, which was kind of a strange concept.

Anyway, it didn't matter, because-

Something beside him on the bed began to buzz. His comlink. _Fek_ , it was probably one of his brothers, wondering why he wasn't at dinner, or maybe there was more work to be done. With the (former) captain and their (former) Jedi general recently married and spending nearly every free second on an extended honeymoon, Crest and Weave had been a little more needy than usual. Not their fault, but...

Well, Trax was in a mood.

He nearly ignored the crinking comlink, then sighed and fumbled through the blankets for the device, not bothering to glance at the origin signal before answering. “What?”

“Hello to you as well, Trax.”

 _Kriffing hell._ “Hey, Ares,” he replied, feeling his face get hot; he sat up abruptly and cleared his throat. “Uh...what's up?”

There was a pause, then he heard the Twi'lek's lilting Ryl accent that always, always caught him off guard. In a good way. “Not a great deal at the moment, sadly. Am I, ah, disturbing you?”

“Nope,” Trax said. “I'm just...er...thinking about taking a shower.”

“A shower? Without me?” Ares sighed, and Trax felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth at the Twi'lek's despondent tone. “Ah, well. I shall just have to use my imagination for the time being.”

Despite his earlier mood, Traxis' smile widened even as he felt heat creep to his groin at the thought of past showering experiences with the coral-skinned Twi'lek male. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“You? Disappoint? Never, Trax.” Ares laughed, and a little more of Trax's bad mood slipped away with the sound.

Even so, he shrugged. “Yeah, well, you haven't known me very long.”

Ares made a noncommittal noise, then spoke again. “I should go, but I did want to...say hello.”

There was a chime at Trax's door, and the scarred clone scowled, his foul mood returning in full force. _Shab. Can't they leave me alone for two seconds?_ “Yeah, I should go too. Someone's at the door. Probably Crest wanting to socialize or something. See you when you get back?”

Over the comm, Ares' voice sounded amused, oddly. “I'll see you soon, Trax.”

As he shut off the comlink, the chime sounded again, more insistent. With a groan, Trax got to his feet and made his way to the door, thinking only once that maybe he should have bothered to put his pants back on over his boxer shorts. The heel of his palm collided with the panel by the door and he sucked in a breath, ready to give whoever the hell was on the other side of the threshold a good tongue-lashing, because he was in a _mood_ and wanted to be left alone, for Force's sake. Was that so kriffing difficult for baldy to wrap his brain around?

The door slid open.

_Oh, fek._

Ares was there, smiling, and his warm brown eyes were alight with mischief. “Very soon, as it happens.”

“You...?”

Trax looked the Twi'lek up and down, blinking stupidly as his brain tried to quantify the sight of the coral-skinned figure standing before him when he'd thought that the other male was across the galaxy. In his typical fashion, Ares was dressed simply but practically in boots, trousers and a knee-length jacket that made him look a bit like he was up to no good in a way that Trax always found rather distracting. Additionally, the Twi'lek also had a canvas pack slung over his shoulder.

“You're here,” the clone said at last, wincing at the obvious statement.

Ares smiled again; it was a different smile, this time, filled with a kind of intent that made blood rush to various parts of Trax's anatomy. The former bounty-hunter's gaze fell on Trax's groin, where the gray boxer shorts were starting to get a little tight.

“And grateful for it, I have to say,” Ares replied, looking back up into his eyes. “You certainly know how to, ah, greet a fellow.”

Blinking again, the scarred clone managed a smile even though his ears were hot, and he made a gesture towards the interior of his cabin. Moments later, Ares was inside, the door was locked and his comlink was set to “do not disturb,” so Traxis was able to relax a little bit more. Not a whole lot, as the Twi'lek's proximity set him a bit on edge – in a good way – but he was still not quite sure of himself with the other male around. More to the point, he wasn't quite sure why the other male wanted to be around him.

Only when he looked up from his comlink did he realize that Ares had been busy while he'd been distracted. There was a small desk beside the bed, upon which Traxis had taken to keeping his ammo stash and a few of his smaller weapons; Ares had carefully moved the weapons to one side of the desk in order to set up a few packages of what looked and smelled like dinner. There was only one chair, but the desk was close enough to the bed to allow another person to sit and eat.

A burbling sound rose from his stomach and Traxis stepped over to the desk, his eyes skimming over the food before he looked at Ares, who was now slipping out of the jacket, revealing a button-up shirt that fitted across his chest rather well. “You didn't have to do this.”

“You're right,” Ares replied lightly. He made to toss the jacket to the ground, caught Trax's lifted brow, then folded it in half and set it on the back of the chair, smirking at the clone as he did so. “But I wanted to.”

“Are you even hungry?”

A chuckle escaped the Twi'lek as he plopped down in the chair and began to unlace his boots. When he spoke, his accent was more pronounced and his tone was teasing. “Very, Traxis.”

Even though he shivered at the sound of his name in Ares' voice, Traxis rolled his eyes. “For dinner, I mean.”

After setting his boots and socks – neatly, thankfully – to one side of the chair, Ares glanced up at the scarred clone. “Not especially,” he admitted. Traxis opened his mouth to question the other male again, but Ares continued. “But you are. Yes?”

Traxis stepped to the desk, standing perhaps an arm's length from the Twi'lek as he considered the spread before him; nothing particularly gourmet, but there was a good selection, and his stomach growled again as if anxious. There was a light touch against his upper thigh, right at the place where the edge of his shorts clung to his skin, and he felt himself tense a bit more, so he glanced back at the other male with a lifted brow.

“I am,” he ventured, still uncertain what to make of the entire situation. “But I'm also...” He frowned, and watched as Ares studied him, waiting. Suddenly, he felt very exposed and wished he'd at least thought to put on some _shabla_ pants. “I'm tired, and I need a shower,” he said at last, shaking his head. “I mean, I want to...be with you, Ares, but I just-”

With a grunt of frustration, Traxis broke off and looked away, biting the inside of his cheek as he tried to form the words: _I enjoy having sex with you, I just don't want to right now._

But he couldn't.

 _Coward_ , he thought darkly. _Just shut up and take it like a man, for kriff's sake._

A motion out of the corner of his eye made him look back at the Twi'lek. One of Ares' coral-colored lekku twitched and he stood up, resting both of his hands at Trax's waist, lightly but with a firmness that reminded the clone that Ares was not without his own strength. Their eyes met; the two of them were nearly the same height, though the sweeping arcs of his lekku made the Twi'lek taller by just a bit.

“You don't want to have sex right now?”

Traxis wanted to look away but it was hard to do so with Ares' hands on his hips. Finally he sighed and nodded once. “Yeah.”

There was a brief pause where Traxis prepared himself for...well, he wasn't sure, exactly. Save a few jerks here and there, no one had spoken unkindly to him in a long time, but there was a part of him that wanted to flinch in anticipation of a blow, verbal or otherwise.

But when Ares spoke there was not a trace of mockery in his voice. “Traxis, if all you want to give me is your company, then it is a gift I will gladly accept.”

“But you came all the way back here-”

Ares shook his head, effectively silencing the clone. His eyes were warm and filled with something Trax had seen before, in others, but never when anyone looked at him. Not once.

Not until now.

Ares spoke again, quieter, but with a little more intensity and his words were punctuated with a squeeze of Trax's hips. “That doesn't matter, Trax. I will only take from you what you freely and willingly offer, no matter what it may be. It is that way now, and it will be that way, always. Do you understand?”

Kriff, something was in his throat, making it tight, and he had no idea what to do with his hands, so Traxis swallowed, then took a breath. “Nothing comes without a price.”

“That's true,” the Twi'lek replied, his tone taking on a more thoughtful lilt that made Trax's heart sink into his gut. “What payment would you offer then, Traxis?”

“Don't patronize me.” The scarred clone exhaled in irritation and made to step out of Ares' grip, thinking to put some distance between them, at least until he was in a less whatever mood.

Ares released him without protest and took a seat again, folding his hands over his stomach and regarding Traxis with a neutral expression as the clone paced to the foot of the bed and crossed his arms. Left standing, Traxis found that he felt a bit awkward doing so on his own, so after a minute or so he sighed again and looked at the array of food once more.

“This came from the mess-hall,” he said, knitting his brows as he stepped back over to the desk.

“I returned about half an hour ago,” Ares replied with a nod. “Your brothers were in the cafeteria; they informed me that you were probably in your cabin and likely not planning to emerge any time soon. I called you after I had collected the meal,” the Twi'lek added, looking back down at his hands. “I will admit that I thought to surprise you...pleasantly. Showing up at your door was the extent of my, ah, brilliant plan.”

There was chagrin in Ares' tone. The realization shot a flare of regret through the clone, so he sighed and scrubbed at his face with his hand. “It was a nice surprise,” he said at last, offering the Twi'lek the faintest of half-smiles. “I'm just an asshole, sometimes.”

Surprisingly, Ares gave a quiet chuckle. “Perhaps, but I happen to like you anyway.”

Something about the Twi'lek's laugh sent a thrill of excitement through Traxis, one that made him think he might not be as fatigued as he'd originally thought, so he cleared his throat, pretending to look confused. “You like assholes?”

It was Ares' turn to roll his eyes, though Trax caught a faint flush in the tips of his lekku. “You are not one for subtlety, are you?”

“Nope.”

Traxis actually smiled at the teasing in the other male's tone as he slid back to the bed, reached for the closest container of food – roasted gorak, he thought – and began to dig in. After only a few bites he felt better already.

Another chuckle escaped Ares, and as Traxis ate, the Twi'lek sat and waited, one ankle thrown up over a bent knee and his folded hands resting on his stomach in a picture of nonchalance.

It was roasted gorak, prepared just right, too. There was some flatbread and baked topatoes, along with a nice helping of Bakuran sweetcake, which Trax practically inhaled. While he ate, he cast the occasional glance at his companion, watching how the Twi'lek's gaze flickered around the room, taking in what there was to see – not much but Trax's old kit and a few weapons that he didn't feel like storing elsewhere – then fell back on the scarred clone.

Their eyes met and Traxis realized that he was done eating, so he licked the remaining frosting from the sweetcake off of his fingers and gave Ares a nod, noting how the other male's gaze was riveted on his hands. “Good stuff. Thanks again.”

Ares blinked at him, then – to Trax's amusement – his lekku flushed a deeper coral color. “You are most welcome.”

“I'm feeling a little more like myself,” Traxis said, reaching to gather the remnants of his dinner. “I think I'll be even better after a shower.”

Also moving to help clean up, the other male made a sound of acknowledgment. A glance showed Trax that Ares still appeared to be uncertain about something; his eyes were now fixed on the gorak containers and his movements were a little too deliberate to be casual, so Traxis cleared his throat and straightened his spine. “Care to join me?”

When Ares smiled at him, Traxis marveled at the realization that yes, he had missed the expression, and idly wondered how he'd ever managed without it. The flush of color in Ares' lekku was pure arousal, now, and his voice was a little huskier than normal. “Nothing would please me more.”

“Really?” Emboldened by his own desire, a full belly and the Twi'lek's reactions, Traxis smoothed the backs of his fingers along Ares' lek again, watching as his companion shivered. The sight, the feel of Ares beneath his hand was enough to make his cock stiffen as desire began to flood through his body.

Nope, he was definitely not tired any more.

Traxis would never, ever thank the Kaminoans for anything, but if he had a mind to, it'd be the genetically-enhanced stamina that they'd given the clone soldiers. It certainly came in handy at times like these.

Slowly, but with intention, Trax rested his hands on his hips, drawing Ares' eyes to his torso as he spoke. “I can think of a few things that might.”

“Only if you want to give them,” Ares replied; his voice was now quite thick with arousal, and Trax could see the outline of his stiffening cock through his pants for all that the other male held still, as if waiting for an all-clear signal.

Traxis gave it. Without a word, he reached for the waistband of Ares' pants and pulled the Twi'lek close, savoring the tight ridges of muscle that his fingers brushed against. Even though the shirt, Ares' body was warm and deliciously firm against his own, and the ensuing kiss was deep as desire ran unchecked between them. Within a moment, Traxis felt Ares' hands sliding around his waist, pressing their bodies closer like he just couldn't get enough of the scarred clone, and the intensity of his kiss lifted another notch.

The press of Ares' lips and tongue was not a call to battle, only a physical reminder of his desire; however, there was no lack of strength behind the action, and the sinewy arms wrapping around Trax's shoulders were proof of such a thing. For Traxis, there was no struggle for dominance, no desperate bid for contact of any kind, for all that the taste, the feel and smell of this male were intoxicating. It was enough, it was everything, to be here now, with Ares.

Traxis inhaled through his nose and squeezed the Twi'lek's waist again, savoring the compactness of him; there was great strength in this male, but so much of it was just beneath the surface. In response, Ares made a quiet, throaty noise of pleasure, then slid one of his hands up to Trax's neatly-trimmed hair, gliding his fingers through the short strands. Something about the Twi'lek's preference for Human hair flitted through Trax's brain, but the thought fled when Ares caught his lower lip in a nip, then dropped his other hand to squeeze the clone's ass, all while kissing him hard enough to steal his breath.

When the kiss ended, Traxis' head was spinning and his cock was so hard he thought he was going to finish right then and there, like a damn, inexperienced kid. As it was, he had to take a few deep breaths to calm himself, noting with satisfaction that Ares had to do much the same thing; they exchanged wry looks, then Trax reached for him again.

“Too many clothes,” he muttered, working at the buttons on Ares' cream-colored shirt. “You're a such a kriffing tease.”

The shirt fell to the floor and Traxis sighed when he revealed a stretch of broad, muscled chest, then immediately dropped his head to suck at the coral-colored skin, making Ares groan. “I'm not the one, ah, parading around in only my...my-”

Ares broke off as Trax found his nipple – dark, almost crimson – and swirled his tongue across the stiffened peak. “Skivvies,” the clone managed at last, punctuating his words with kisses. “The word you're looking for. Means 'underwear' in soldier-speak.”

“Well, then...your skivvies are positively indecent,” Ares replied, his hand cupping Trax's cock through the gray boxers. The warm press of Ares' hand, along with the touch of fabric against the clone's straining length was enough to make him suck in his breath.

“Trax, you're a menace,” the Twi'lek added, speaking against Trax's mouth as his hand lifted and he pulled the clone in for another kiss.

By the time they pulled apart again, the Twi'lek's lips and mouth were flushed, and Trax ran his thumb along Ares' lower lip, savoring what he liked to think of as his handiwork. They'd parted, but they were still only a breath apart.

“ _Fek_ , Ares,” he said once he found his voice. “I may be a menace, but you're one hell of a great kisser.”

Ares shot him a crooked grin, then skimmed his hand through Trax's close-cropped hair again, the ensuing sensation enough to cause a shudder of pleasure to pass through the former-soldier. “Perhaps, but you,” he said, grasping the back of Trax's neck and pulling him close again so that the breath from his speech feathered Trax's lips. “Are the sexiest man I have ever met.”

“Well, there's a million more just like me,” Traxis replied. “I'm nothing special.”

His eyes were half-closed as he brushed his mouth against Ares' lips. They were so close, skin-on-skin, and he didn't think he'd ever get tired of the feeling, even if Ares still – unfortunately – had pants on. Well, he had his boxers, too, but-

“Traxis.” The Twi'lek's hands were on his either side of his face, then, causing Trax's eyes to open fully. Ares was so close, still breathing heavily, eyes still dark and skin still flushed with arousal, but there was a seriousness to his tone that went beyond any foreplay.

A thumb brushed along the scar that ribboned across his face; the touch was gentle but the sensation was strong, enough to cause the clone to shudder. It was still a tender place, and he hated that it was on display for the whole _shabla_ galaxy, but he'd long since grown used to the notion.

“Listen to me, Traxis,” Ares said, warm, brown eyes not once leaving Trax's even as he continued to stroke Trax's scar. “You are entirely your own man, and you are an...extraordinary one, at that.”

Against his wishes, Traxis felt his eyes close. “Ares, I'm not-”

“I realize we have not known one another for very long,” Ares continued, a thumb brushing along Trax's eyelid, causing his eyes to open again. “But to me, you are perfect, just as you are.”

There was silence for a moment, then Traxis cleared his throat. “You're not so bad, yourself.”

He winced at the words, for they sounded kriffing silly in light of what Ares had just told him, but he didn't know what else to say when faced with such absolute acceptance. It was too much; he wasn't made for this kind of thing. He didn't deserve this.

But Ares only smiled and kissed his cheek once, lightly. “I am glad to hear it.”

Kriff, he wanted to say something even a little bit clever, but all Traxis could do was inhale, then wrap his arms around Ares' waist, drinking in the Twi'lek's scent. When he spoke, it was into the skin of Ares' warm neck. “Can we get naked, already?”

Muscular arms embraced him without hesitation. “Yes, please.”


	3. Chapter 3

While he loved his ship, the _Stark Raven_ , Ares had always appreciated the amenities aboard the _Chu'unthor_ ; he could have had his own cabin here, if he wanted, but in the past he'd always preferred to stay on hisfreighter _,_ even when he was staying aboard the praxeum vessel. After all, he had everything he needed on his beloved _Raven_...except a decent 'fresher. Oh, he _had_ a 'fresher, alright, but it was tiny and cramped and there was hardly room to turn around, let alone shower with someone else. Over the years he'd considered trying to upgrade, or maybe even converting one of the crew cabins into a larger one, but had never had much inclination, especially when he was alone most of the time.

 

Now, he thought he might have to look into such a thing after all. 

 

Thankfully, the 'fresher in Trax's cabin aboard the _Chu'unthor_ was more than sufficient for the two of them, and thoughts of his own ship were distant as Ares slid out of his pants and watched the soldier activate the water. To to so, Traxis had to lean across the toilet to reach the waterproof panel at the side of the shower-stall, which meant that Ares got a clear view of his muscular form. The pale gray fabric of Trax's “skivvies” clung to the curve of his ass perfectly, and Ares felt both his _lekku_ and his cock flushing with heat as blood rushed to the areas. 

 

Sweet stars, Traxis was the perfect man, all muscle and strength, with a simmering fire in his eyes that could be stoked to a blaze with the right touch; along with these things was a nature that was – not gentle, exactly – but something of a bright, smoldering ember that exuded kindness as well as intensity. There was also a kind of harshness to Trax, a bitterness that ran deeper than any scar, and Ares was still learning how to find his footing when he was around this man.

 

Never in all his days had he met anyone as complex as Traxis, and a part of Ares wondered if he'd ever understand him, fully. 

 

Once the water was running, Traxis turned around and lifted a brow as his honey-brown eyes swept across Ares' body, where the Twi'lek's boxers remained in place. “You're not naked.”

 

“I was, ah, distracted,” Ares replied, feeling a grin cross his face. “By you and your 'skivvies.'”

 

It delighted him when he could make the scarred soldier laugh, even a little bit; it was a rare occurrence, and he enjoyed the challenge that Traxis presented. Well, he enjoyed a great deal more than that, but most thoughts fled his mind as the dusky-skinned man stepped towards him, a half-smile on his face in the wake of the genuine chuckle he'd just given. 

 

“My skivvies,” Traxis said as he stood before Ares, close but not touching; at this distance, the Twi'lek could make out the varied scars that criss-crossed the other male's body, some of which, like the one on his face, looked like it'd hurt a great deal to receive them. Trax's smile widened as he took in the direction of Ares' lingering gaze. “You know, I kinda like when you say it like that.”

 

Unable to help himself any longer, Ares lifted a hand to Trax's neck, skimming his fingers to cup the back of the man's head and pull them closer even as the 'fresher air began to grow warm and steamy. The sensation of soft, silky hair on his palm was nearly Ares' undoing; it was exotic and completely enticing. “Say it like what?”

 

Trax's mouth was supple and soft, and his baritone voice sent a thrill across Ares' skin and made his _lekku_ nearly ache with arousal, to say nothing of his cock. “With your accent.”

 

While Ares wanted nothing more than to fuck this man senseless, the pleasure that could be had for each of them with a little patience was too great to pass over in the heat of the moment, so he ensured that his movements were slow and steady. This kiss was the lingering kind. This kiss was gentle and filled with anticipation. 

 

Strong hands curled around Ares' biceps, squeezing a few times as Traxis seemed torn between savoring what he found and trying to draw Ares even closer. The Twi'lek obliged, and the kiss deepened; their groins were pressed close, now, and each movement allowed Ares to feel the other male's arousal, stiff and strong, and again he couldn't help himself. He groaned, murmured Trax's name when they parted to breathe. 

 

It gave him a measure of satisfaction to see that the near-gold of Traxis' eyes was now dark with desire, as well as the flush that had appeared across his cheeks and lips. A part of Ares could kiss this man all day long, but the water was running and each inhale brought a measure of steamy air, and he wanted very much for Trax to be naked. 

 

“My accent?” Ares managed to say as he dropped his hands to the waist of the soldier's boxers, slipping his fingers between the band of fabric and Trax's muscled hips. 

 

“I don't have an accent,” he added as he knelt and began to draw the shorts down the clone's thighs, causing Traxis to suck in his breath. Once he'd gotten Trax to step out of the boxers, Ares remained kneeling, casting as casual a look as he could manage up at the soldier, though he felt his gaze being pulled towards his companion's impressive cock, where a bead of moisture was forming at the tip. “But you do, Traxis.”

 

Traxis stared down at him, his breathing heavy, then reached for the top-most curves of Ares' _lekku_ , stroking with just the right amount of pressure. Traxis looked like he wanted to say something, but Ares was learning that sometimes words didn't come as easily to this man as they came to him, so he only smiled again and leaned forward so that his mouth was flush with Trax's cock, smiling as the clone let out a groan. 

 

This close, his lips were barely brushing Trax's tip. The scent of this man was intoxicating, as was the heat radiating off of his body, so he flickered his tongue across the velvet skin once, just for a taste. Warm and delicious. He glanced up at Traxis again. “You realize that we are wasting a great deal of water by dallying.”

 

Above him, the soldier gave a soft curse before he to regain a measure of his composure as he grazed his nails along Ares' left _lek,_ the action causing the Twi'lek to shudder. “Maybe, but you're _still_ not naked.”

 

Rarely was a _lekku_ -less being able to master the precise levels of pressure necessary to bring about the greatest pleasure the bearer of the appendages, but Traxis was – in his own words – a fast learner, and his instincts were unmatched. Ares had found that with the right kind of encouragement, there seemed to be no limit to what this man could accomplish, and he found himself eager to match the soldier's innate ability to please with whatever he could offer in return. 

 

“Ah,” Ares replied, rising to his feet. “That would be a problem while attempting to shower, yes?” He skimmed his hands along the muscled “v” of Trax's hips, pausing to run his fingers through the dark tangle of hair that surrounded the base of the man's cock; this, too, was something exotic but not strange. “What can be done about it, I wonder?”

 

Along with patience, it required a great deal of balance to walk that fine line with Traxis, that of teasing him just enough to elicit a strong reaction, but not enough to annoy, and it was a balance that Ares found he was somehow able to keep up rather well. 

 

Right now, for example, the scarred soldier gave a quiet growl that was a little frustrated but mostly aroused; quicker than a flash, he took a knee and wrapped his hands around Ares' ass, pulling the Twi'lek closer so that he could suck and nip at Ares' abdomen. Within an instant, Ares' control had spiraled away and it was all he could do to just rest his fingers in Trax's dark hair and not push him to move any faster than he was willing. Force, but his mouth was warm and wet, and even the pressure on the skin of Ares' stomach caused a sharp pang of longing, his cock aching with the desire to bury itself in the man before him.

 

After a minute or so of this, Traxis' warm mouth left Ares' body as he pulled the Twi'lek's boxers down to his ankles, helping him to step out of them. Once that was done, Traxis stood upright again, slowly this time, running his hands parallel to one another up Ares' thighs and hips. 

 

They were eye-level, now. “Alright,” Traxis said in that kriffing sexy voice that Ares knew he'd never tire of. “Let's get in before the hot water runs out.”

 

Actually, Ares had never experienced a problem with running out of hot water on this ship, but his head was spinning and he could hardly think straight, so he put all of his focus into making it into the shower-stall without slipping and falling ungracefully on his ass. Trax stepped in after him and slid the door shut, effectively closing them into their own world. 

 

The stall was perhaps just over a square meter wide, which allowed both the space to move or the option to remain close, depending on the preferences of those within. Without Traxis kneeling before him, Ares found that he had retained a measure of control and was able to focus on the mechanics of the whole _showering_ act, which was, after all, the entire reason they were here. Of _course_.

 

So while Trax stood beneath the spray of water, head tilted back to soak his hair, Ares squeezed a dollop of soap in his hand from a dispenser along the wall. He rubbed his hands to work up a lather, then cleared his throat. Trax's eyes opened and fell on him, and Ares took a moment – again – to appreciate the man standing before him; the water sluicing down the soldier's body clung to each muscle, and his magnificent cock was still hard, poised and waiting. 

 

The clone noted the soap coating Ares' hands, then moved as if he was going to turn around, but Ares stilled him with a single finger on his chest; despite the steamy condition of the immediate area, his throat was a little dry, but he managed to speak. “Not quite yet, Traxis. This is for washing.”

 

There was a pause as Traxis blinked at him, as if in surprise. “I thought we were going to fuck?” 

 

“Do you want to?” Ares asked, rubbing his palms together again, the lather foaming over his skin. “Earlier, you said that-”

 

Trax exhaled and ran a hand across his face; Ares knew the motion was to conceal his smile, as it was a habit that he'd noticed upon more than one occasion. “Well...I've changed my mind since then. Couldn't you tell?”

 

“Ah, then I am most pleased to hear it,” Ares replied lightly. He offered the clone a smile, then reached forward to rest his hands along Trax's firm, muscled shoulders. “But we have all night, don't we? Traxis, to me, sex is not supposed to be a mad dash to the finish-line. In fact, I _prefer_ a longer, ah, more scenic route.”

 

“ _More_ scenic?” Traxis repeated, running his eyes across Ares' body. “I'm not sure how much more _looking_ I can take, Ares.”

 

Ares didn't bother to hide his chuckle. “Patience is a virtue, my friend.”

 

The clone offered him a rare smile, one that was filled with desire even as it beckoned, though when he spoke, his voice was business-like. “Not feeling too virtuous right now. Matter-of-fact, I'd rather you just push me against that wall and have at me with that cock of yours.”

 

“Then hold still,” Ares replied; he knew that his own voice was husky with arousal, but Force, he couldn't help it when the man spoke like that. As it was he could barely get the words out clearly. “That will come soon enough, but for now...”

 

He trailed off as Trax's brow lifted, and there was a moment where Ares thought Traxis would object, but at last he straightened his spine and relaxed his arms at his sides, every inch the perfect soldier despite the fact that they were in the shower and he was still sporting a magnificent erection. There were no words; Traxis only lifted his chin and held Ares' eyes with a gaze that was somehow challenging and vulnerable, and again the thought crossed the Twi'leks' mind that while a million others might share the clone's face, there was no one else in the galaxy quite like this man. 

 

_Traxis,_ he thought as he began to run his hands over the clone's muscular shoulders. _You are going to be my undoing._

 

The soap was unscented and mild. It lathered in foamy swathes across Trax's dusky skin and allowed Ares' hands to glide along easily; soon he'd coated Traxis' shoulders and neck, so he moved to the other male's collarbone and chest, taking the time to sweep his thumbs across the hollow at the base of Trax's throat, where the clone's pulse was racing. From there, it was a brief journey down to Trax's nipples, beading beneath the water's touch as much as Ares', and the Twi'lek spent a bit of time rubbing soapy circles over the stiff peaks, smiling to himself when he heard Trax's soft exhale. 

 

Next was the soldier's abdomen, which was about as perfect as any Ares had had the pleasure to come across; defined, tight ridges of muscle that were the product of a lifetime of activity rather than hours of countless repetitions in a gymnasium. Each section was scrubbed clean.

 

Ares paused at Trax's cock, not because he didn't want to continue, but because he thought if he did, they'd both lose control and this journey would end very quickly, and he still wanted to prolong both of their pleasures as long as possible. _Quite_ the dilemma.

 

To give himself a moment of thought, Ares got some more soap in his hands, knelt on the padded mat, then met Trax's eyes, which contained huge, dilated pupils over rings of near-gold. “We're still in the washing phase of this, ah, experience,” he said to the other man. “But I am not sure how well I can contain myself, so I'll need you to remain still, Trax.”

 

Again, the smile. “That's a pretty tall order for a guy on his knees.”

 

“Humor me.”

 

There was a quiet chuckle from the clone before Traxis lifted his arms so that they were crossed behind his head, effectively stretching out his torso and revealing further sinewy muscles in his arms. “Alright. Wash away.”

 

Before he'd met Traxis and the other clones, Ares had only known a little bit about the GAR and he'd certainly never encountered any of the Republic's soldiers. While he'd watched coverage of the Wars – particularly the battles on his home-planet, it had honestly never occurred to him to think of the faceless soldiers as real, Human men, though now he understood the short-sightedness of that perspective. Of course he preferred this man to the any of the others, but they all seemed like decent fellows and he knew that they were important to Traxis, so he thought that perhaps – whenever he and Trax were able to leave the cabin – he'd like to get to know them a little better. They were Traxis' family, after all.

 

But now, kneeling before the most perfect cock he'd ever had the pleasure of encountering and knowing that the other clones were identical to this man – if not in mind, than at least in body – Ares wondered how long it would be before he could look any of them in the eye without this image appearing in his own mind.

 

Ah, well. Another thing to get used to. Life could be much worse.

 

Taking another breath to calm himself, Ares lifted his hands and grasped Traxis' cock, running his soap-coated fingers along the length, taking care to keep his movements as controlled as possible. Even so, he couldn't help the blood that rushed to his _lekku_ or the way that his own cockbegan to practically ache with the renewed flood of arousal. Trax, too, seemed to have to fight for control; Ares watched as the muscles of his stomach clenched and heard the other male's swift intake of air, and it both pleased and humbled him that Trax was working so hard to play along with his game. Granted, it was for mutual benefit, but still...

 

Above him, Traxis murmured something that sounded like _Ares,_ and the Twi'lek had to take another, calming breath at the sound. _Soon,_ he thought, reaching to brush soap along the clone's rigid sack. _Be patient, Trax. I promise you it will be worth the effort._

 

With the area sufficiently cleaned, Ares' hands dropped lower to the former-soldier's upper thighs, kneading his hands over the bands of sinew and savoring the way that Trax's muscles seemed loosen beneath his touch. In fact, the clone's entire body – save one area in particular – seemed more at ease, which was gratifying, especially when he thought back to how tense Traxis had been acting when he'd first shown up with dinner. 

 

A movement out of the corner of his eyes; Trax's hands had fallen back to his sides so that the clone was standing as he'd been, before. Ares glanced up and noted that Trax's head was still forward, but his eyes were heavy-lidded, as if he was nearing sleep. There was no way that was happening, of course, so Ares took it as a physical indicator that the man was _finally_ relaxing. 

 

There would be plenty of tension, later. For now, this was exactly what Ares wanted, so he used the last of the soap on his hands to rub Trax's calves – sweet Force, the man was made of muscle! – ankles and feet, going so far as to scrub between each slender toe. When he was done, he stood up slowly, allowing the blood to rush back to his legs. Once he was fully upright, he looked at his companion and had to chuckle; Trax's eyes were still closed and he appeared to be in some sort of trance, which Ares found rather endearing on the scarred man. 

 

He took a moment to pump some more soap on his hand, then glanced at his companion again. “Traxis.”

 

“Mmm.” Honey-brown eyes, hazy with arousal and relaxation, opened and looked his way. “You're done?”

 

Ares smiled at the edge of disappointment in the other man's voice. “Only with your front. It's your rear I'm going for, now.”

 

_Kriff, that smile..._

 

“Oh, so _now_ I can turn around,” Traxis said, doing so as he placed his forearms against the wall, presenting Ares with unimpeded access to his perfect ass. “Finally. I was starting to get worried.”

 

There was no way Ares could withhold a laugh at this, even as his own cock was beyond eager to bury itself within what was so willingly offered. For a moment, all he could do was stand in the spray of water and stare at Trax's delicious, curving ass, remembering the other occasions where he'd had the immense pleasure of penetrating the clone's body.

 

_Patience is a virtue,_ he told himself, taking another breath, and another. As if sensing his struggle, Traxis' body shifted, allowing the still-warm water to sluice enticingly across the perfect, tan mounds of flesh. Kriff, it was getting harder and harder to keep himself from spreading Trax's cheeks and-

 

“Still with me, Ares?”

 

“Of course,” Ares replied. “I'm just, ah, enjoying the view.” A glance at his hands showed him that almost all the soap had been washed away, so he had to get another dollop; moments later he was touching Traxis again, kneading the former-soldier's shoulders and upper back. Swirls of soap dappled dusky skin, and he smiled to himself as Trax exhaled, then leaned his head against his folded arms, which were braced against the tiled wall. 

 

As he worked, Ares was sure to use enough pressure against Trax's muscles to help him relax a bit more and hopefully smooth out any other knots of tension. Unlike his chest, the soldier's back was nearly unblemished, save a few pale scars at his upper shoulders, and Ares wondered at the fact as he rubbed the heels of his palms along Trax's mid-back, on either side of his spine. His face, his chest, a few on his arms...that was where the worst of the scarring was located, and Ares wasn't sure what such a thing meant. Perhaps, he mused as Traxis made a quiet noise of appreciation, such a thing was due to the fact that this was not a man who was willing to put his back to an enemy, even for a retreat. 

 

Traxis shifted, pulling Ares from his thoughts even though neither of them said anything. The water still streamed across their bodies, but Ares knew that his own skin was warm for entirely different reasons, and he took another breath, urging himself to patience. Ares' hands were still coated with soap, which allowed his palms to glide easily down Trax's back, to his slender hips that tapered at just the right angle...

 

This man had an ass so perfect, Ares could hardly believe it was real. He remembered the first time he'd seen it in...well, in the flesh, so to speak; he'd been unable to stop grinning, and Traxis had been rather amused to hear his thoughts on the matter. It was muscular and taut, tan and smooth, not too round, but quite well-defined. He might have thought it was the stuff that dreams were made of, but he'd never _dreamed_ that in all his days, he'd be lucky enough to encounter an ass like this.

 

_Mine,_ he thought as his hands slid down, savoring the curve because he couldn't help himself. _All mine._ For now, at any rate. Ares did not fancy himself a possessive person, but there was something intoxicating about the thought that Trax had been drawn to him, too; he remembered seeing the clone for the first time, across a crowded cafeteria, and thinking that there was no _way_ this soldier was unspoken for, and even if he'd been, there was no way he'd want anything to do with a tailhead. 

 

But, miraculously, he did. 

 

And Ares, no fan of religion, thanked the Force every day. 

 

This in mind, he realized he couldn't help himself any longer, so he reached his hands around Trax's waist and pressed his chest to the clone's back so that he could speak in his ear while the warm water streamed across their bodies. “Do you know how lucky you make me feel?”

 

Trax had tensed at first, but he immediately relaxed into the contact; he straightened and rested his hands on Ares' forearms, and twisted his head around to see the Twi'lek. “I thought I'd used up all my luck before we met,” he said in a gruff voice. “But you proved me wrong.”

 

“Happy to do so.” Ares dropped a kiss against the man's shoulder, one that he deepened as he began to suck at the soaking skin; Trax's head fell back, exposing the area further. In response, Ares worked his mouth up Trax's neck, pausing to nibble on his earlobe, then – because he couldn't help himself – he rubbed his cheek against the dark edges of the Human's hair, savoring the feeling of the soft, wet strands on his skin. 

 

Traxis gave a quiet chuckle at this, which drew Ares out of his haze. He cleared his throat. “What is so amusing?”

 

Another chuckle, and Trax tightened his grip on Ares' forearms. “You have a hair fetish.”

 

“Perhaps, but only for _your_ hair, my scarred soldier,” Ares replied, taking one more moment to brush his lips against the dark strands. As he did so, Traxis sighed and pressed his back into Ares' chest once more, also pushing his ass firmly into the Twi'lek's cock, which caused a renewed flare of desire to course through Ares' body. 

 

“Are we still taking the scenic route?” Traxis asked, a smirk behind the words. “Because I'm ready to get down to business. Something tells me you are, too.”

 

_Now now now..._

 

“Just a moment more,” Ares managed to say, still speaking in Trax's ear; he tilted his hips so that his cock slid between Trax's cheeks, just a little bit, which caused both of them to gasp. “You're humoring me, remember?”  


Trax groaned but nodded, and his eyes squeezed shut. The muscles of his ass had clenched, again taut with tension, so Ares kissed the clone's ear and took a small step back to allow the water to wash any remaining traces of soap off of Trax's body; he began to gently massage the curving, muscular cheeks, dropping kisses along the sinewy lines of Trax's shoulders and upper back as he did so. Within moments, he felt his soldier exhale as his body relaxed a bit more, so Ares guided him forward so that his arms were braced against the shower wall again.

 

“About fragging time,” Traxis muttered, twisting his head around and shooting Ares a raised brow and a look that was all cocky bravado. 

 

Ares bit back a laugh, instead skimming the tip of his index finger along the slit of the other man's ass a few times, all the way up and down the curve, his finger brushing the skin with just enough pressure to elicit another intake of breath from the other man. When he spoke at last, he did so quietly and into Trax's ear. “You sound so certain that you are going to get your way.”

 

Traxis made a deep, baritone noise of pleasure, and his voice was a bit more hoarse than before, though no less cocky. “I knew it. Kriffing tease...”

 

“Hush,” Ares replied, fighting back the urge to turn him around and kiss him again, which was, oddly enough, stronger than the urge to slam his own cock into Trax's ass. Not by much, though. He took a moment to adjust the water to a slightly hotter temperature, then looked back at the man before him, waiting. For _him._ “Relax, and be patient.” 


	4. Chapter 4

There was a war going on within Traxis' body. 

 

One part of him wanted Ares pounding him, hard and fast and fierce. No, it wasn't just a _want;_ it was a _need_ , a desperate, driving one, and in his younger days he would have lost patience already, because what the _hell_ was Ares waiting for? Traxis had not been with many men in his life, but he'd never met anyone who took this much _time,_ who had this much _shabla_ patience, and it was this part of him that found the slow, deliberate pace the Twi'lek had set to be completely maddening.

 

But another part of him, a larger part, was enjoying this shower far too much to do anything but relax and savor each moment. 

 

So he leaned on his arms, bracing himself along the tiles and urging his body to relax beneath the still-streaming, still-warm water, because Ares was nothing if not skilled, and going along with the Twi'lek's seemingly endless patience always paid off. 

 

Ares had never disappointed, and Trax was starting to think he never would.

 

Strong, agile fingers plied the sensitive tissue of his rectum, stroking, probing, and Traxis took another deep breath in an attempt to quell the furious pulse of arousal within his body. Ares' other hand was resting on his waist, squeezing his hips every few moments, and he could feel the Twi'lek's mouth continuing to drop kisses on his back. Gentle, but strong. 

 

_There's no one like him, anywhere,_ Trax managed to think, then Ares' hand slid from his hip around to his cock, and the very last bit of coherent thought fled his mind. 

 

Ares knew just how he liked to be touched; even as one hand continued to stroke his ass, the other grasped his stiff, swollen length, working him into a fervor with knowing strokes. The water streaming around them, along with his warm, relaxed muscles, only served to ease each motion of Ares', and caused waves of pleasure to course through Trax's entire body, making his forehead sink further into the cushion of his arms. The combined sensations were almost too much to bear and he heard himself let out another groan, adding the Twi'lek's name without thinking. 

 

Then he heard Ares' voice in his ear again. “Yes? You called?”

 

The teasing edge to the other male's words only highlighted the pleasure caused by his grip on Trax's cock and the continued stroking at his rectum, and Traxis was hard-pressed to reply. “...fragging tease,” he managed, feeling heat swelling through his balls. “Ares-”

 

“I'm right here, Trax,” Ares replied, sucking at his neck as he spoke. “What do you want?”

 

_I want you to fuck me,_ he wanted to shout, but he was only able to let out another, incoherent groan. He had no clue how Ares was able to remain so calmly in control of his faculties, but the idea of the Twi'lek holding himself in check while he pleasured Traxis to this degree sent another coil of heat and pleasure through his balls, and Trax knew that he was done for. His entire body shuddered beneath Ares' hands when he came, still gasping the other male's name as he filled Ares' hand with his seed. 

 

For a moment it was all he could do to remain upright, silently thankful for the wall before him that had taken the bulk of his weight, though after his vision stopped swimming he was able to stand up and glance behind him. Ares' hands had lifted and he was watching the clone with a damn-cocky smile on his face, one that made Traxis only want to do one thing. 

 

“Feeling bet-”

 

Before the Twi'lek could finish the word, Trax had gripped his waist and the back of his head, and was kissing him hard enough – he hoped – to steal his breath. Using his hips and chest he pushed Ares into the side of the shower, so that they were both beneath the stream of water, and kissed him, again and again. When they parted, they were both panting. 

 

Traxis managed to speak first. “Okay...that was amazing, but you're still a damn tease.”

 

A laugh escaped from the Twi'lek, though it was still a bit breathless. “You are satisfied, are you not?”

 

“Oh, I won't be _satisfied_ until I have that cock of yours in my ass,” Traxis replied, noting how Ares' breath caught again at his words. “All of you, as deep as you can go.” 

 

He smiled to himself at the look of pure arousal that appeared on the Twi'lek's face. _Fek_ , it was sexy as hell how Ares reacted to his words; for all of his innuendo and teasing, he was a little shy about the rougher talk, which Trax found oddly endearing. 

 

Luckily he was good enough at it for both of them. “But for now,” he added, running his hands along the muscular planes of Ares' stomach. “It's your turn to be teased.”

 

Ares took a deep breath and met his eyes. “You are certain you can, ah, restrain yourself? You are not a patient man, Trax.”

 

Traxis couldn't suppress a shiver at the sound of his name in Ares' accent. Kriffing hell...he did love this guy's voice. Rather than reply right away, he pumped some soap onto his hand from the dispenser on the wall and glanced back at his coral-skinned companion. “Quiet,” he said, trying and failing to mimic the lilting Ryl accent. “Relax and be patient. And fragging hold still, for kriff's sake.”

 

Even though they both chuckled at his failed attempt, Ares did as requested, though he made a _tsk-tsk_ sound as Trax began to soap his shoulders and upper-arms. “If you are going to imitate me, then you would do well to watch your language. You know, a gentleman never swears, and nor do I.”

 

Damn, but the Twi'lek had nice arms; he thought so every time he saw them. Idly, he wondered how much hot water he was allotted in this cabin; they hadn't run out yet, amazingly enough, and he spent a few seconds trying to calculate how long they'd been in here, though he found he didn't care enough to really try to work it out. 

 

“I'm about as far from a gentleman as anyone can get,” Trax replied, smirking. “It's why we work so well together, I guess.”

 

As he reached the Twi'lek's collarbone, Ares tilted his head back, exposing a bit more of his neck so Trax could rub soap along the area. “So I've gathered.”

 

“Didn't I say 'quiet?'”

 

“Forgive me,” Ares replied in a dry voice, still managing to tease even positioned as he was, at the former-soldier's mercy. “I have never been adept at following orders.”

 

_Oh, that does it._ Traxis paused to get a bit more soap on his hands, then leaned close to the Twi'lek's ear. “How's this for an order? Shut your mouth and hold still.”

 

Ares eyes were alight with mischief as he grinned. “And if I don't?”

 

In response, Traxis reached for the Twi'lek's left _lek_ and wrapped both of his soap-coated hands around the section at the base, right at Ares' skull, noting the way that the other male's breath caught. “You will.”

 

With that, he began to glide his hands down the length of the _lek,_ using the soap to ensure that his passage was smooth even as his grip was firm; he kept up a steady but slow pressure from the curving top of the organ all the way down to the slender, tapered tip, covering every inch of the _lek_ with soap as he went, and savoring the way each second was eked away at the Twi'lek's control. 

 

Ares' reaction was fantastic. All of his teasing talk had ceased, his eyes were squeezed shut and his cock was so swollen it was nearly crimson and completely tantalizing. His breath was halting and his hands were clenched into fists at his sides, but it was the moan of longing that truly gave away his state, and Trax felt his own cock began to stiffen again.

 

Once he finished with the _lek_ he paused to get more soap, then began to wash the rest of Ares' body, starting with his chest and hips, and smirking at the way that the Twi'lek's eyes fell on him hopefully. “Just the one?”

 

“All talk, huh?” Trax said as he knelt to scrub at the muscles of Ares' hips, though he moved to the Twi'lek's magnificent cock within a moment; he kept his own strokes firm and swift, applying enough pressure to make the other man groan again as he slid his hands in Trax's hair. “Do want me to quote all that 'patience' stuff back at you, or do you want me to keep doing what I'm doing?”

 

Hot, velvet-smooth skin, flushed deep coral. There was no hair, which meant that each movement was unimpeded, and his fingers glided perfectly across the stiff member. Trax slid his thumb across Ares' tip, then around the sensitive crown, then down and back up, working his lover's cock just as he'd done to his _lek._ Ares' sack was rigid and tight, and Traxis took several moments to ply his scrotum with soap as well.

 

In fact, he was so focused on the heavy weight of Ares' length in his hands that he nearly missed the Twi'lek's reply. “I take...it back.”

 

“Take what back?” Releasing his companion's cock – reluctantly – Trax took a moment to rub soap along coral-colored thighs, calves and feet, each hand on a separate leg, working in tandem.

 

It took a moment to get a response. Ares' grip in his hair was firm, the sensation of hands along his scalp enough to make Traxis harder and harder, and the Twi'lek's voice was coming in gasps. “Oh, kriff...Trax.”

 

Smirking to himself, Trax rose and placed his hand on the back of Ares' head, just at the base of the other _lek,_ rubbing his fingers in small circles and drawing the other male to him, savoring the way that Ares' hands crept to his waist. “Did you say something?”

 

“Kriff.” Ares' eyes were closed and his mouth was open. Trax increased the pressure at the base of the _lek_ , using his other hand to stimulate his lover's cock once more. “Trax-”

 

“That's hardly much of a swear,” Traxis replied, speaking directly against Ares' open mouth. His own cock was stiff again and he knew, he _knew_ that he was about to make Ares lose control, which was a good thing, too, because his own was waning. “You can do better than that.”

 

As he spoke, he debated for one moment, then made his decision. Lifting his hand from Ares' cock, he got a bit more soap and wrapped both hands on the _lek_ so that he could work this one like he'd done the other, though he kept his own dick pressed to Ares', shifting his hips to cause further friction on their highly-sensitized members. 

 

“Come on, Ares,” he said again, gliding his hands down the _lek_ , pausing every few inches to rub invisible, soapy patterns against the coral skin. “Tell me what you really think. Don't hold back.” 

 

Ares groaned wordlessly.

 

“Give it to me,” Traxis couldn't resist adding once he reached the tip of the _lek_. “I can take it.” He followed this by taking both _lekku_ in his hands and massaging them with small but firm strokes, which made Ares' mouth open. No sound came out at first, so Trax carefully drew the right _lek_ over Ares' shoulder, towards his own lips so that he could wrap his mouth on the tapered end, flicking his tongue across the smooth skin a few times before he began to suck. 

 

There was a beat of silence, then Ares' grip at his waist tightened as the Twi'lek let loose the most virulent string of swears that Trax had ever heard from _anyone_ , which was saying something; along with the familiar Basic, Ryl and Huttese, there was Bocce, Pak Pak, and Kaleesh, but what impressed him the most was the Mando'a. 

 

“ _Shab_ ,” Ares cried out. “Oh... _osik_!”

 

Because it delighted him to hear such a thing from Ares, Traxis would have commented on the fact, but he was too busy enjoying the notion that he'd finally crumbled the Twi'lek's control, so he continued to work his lips and tongue along the _lek_ 's tip, licking, sucking, all while stroking each one. Ares swore again and his hips bucked against Trax's, who felt a flood of warmth along his stomach as the Twi'lek reached his orgasm, though Trax didn't stop his ministrations until he was absolutely sure Ares was finished; when he felt Ares' hands squeeze his hips, he drew back and ensured that both _lekku_ were placed behind the Twi'lek's back once more. 

 

Ares was panting, and when he met Trax's eyes the clone had to grin at the flush on the other male's face. “That's what I'm talking about,” he said in a mild voice, running a hand down Ares' chest, pausing at the space above his heart, where he rested the flat of his palm to feel the Twi'lek's racing pulse. “Good job. I knew you had it in you.”

 

“Kriffing hell,” Ares managed after a beat, wrapping his arms around Trax's shoulders, pressing himself as close as possible. _Fek,_ he was warm and solid, and Trax savored the feel of him, the way his body moved with each breath and the way he could feel Ares' heart still racing. The water that was still streaming over them had begun to cool, but neither seemed inclined to move for the moment.

 

Finally, the Twi'lek pulled back and glanced down at Trax's stomach, where he'd spent himself. “We should get you cleaned up before the water turns completely cold.”

 

“I don't know,” Trax replied as Ares reached for more soap. “Are you going to restrain yourself, this time?”

 

“For now,” Ares said lightly. 

 

“You can always restrain me,” Trax offered. “I think I have a set of cuffs left over from a mission...”

 

Ares laughed but said nothing else as he lathered the soap across Traxis' abdomen, running his hands over each muscle perhaps a bit more than was necessary, though nothing like before. Though he was not Force-sensitive, Trax understood that the energy between them had shifted somewhat, and he had a feeling that the night was far from over. 


	5. Chapter 5

Even after the shower was over and they were drying off, Ares' head still spun from his release. Since the 'fresher was too small for them both to dry off, they'd taken to the main cabin. Surreptitiously, he watched as Traxis scrubbed his hair with a towel while the rest of his tan, muscular body still glinted with moisture.

 

No one, Twi'lek, Human or otherwise, had ever brought Ares to climax with only a bit of _lek_ -play. Granted, he had been plenty aroused before things had reached that point, but even so...it had never happened to him. Never.

 

Now his scarred soldier stood before the bunk as he dried off, every perfect inch of him on display, acting as if he had no idea what he'd just accomplished; his erection had softened a bit in the cooler air once they'd left the fresher, but past experiences told Ares that it would not be difficult to get him hard all over again.

 

Trax was a man of great stamina.

 

“Like what you see?” Traxis' voice made him blink.

 

Trax had finished drying off and rested his towel around his neck so that it fell across his chest, and his hands were at his hips. The look on his face was amused and slightly devious, and his eyes were dark with arousal.

 

Ares wasn't quite finished drying off, but he hardly cared any more. His towel crumpled to the floor as he stepped over to the other male. “Very much,” he said, reaching up to grasp the edges of Trax's towel to pull the soldier closer. “Very, _very_ much.”

 

They were only a breath apart again. Judging from the revived hardness pressing against his own cock, Trax had recovered from their earlier activities. Ares had to smile to himself; great stamina, indeed. Traxis' hands gripped Ares' waist, thumbs brushing against the Twi'lek's hips, and tilted his head as if about to kiss Ares' mouth.

 

When he spoke, the clone's voice was a little hoarse. “Ares...”

 

“Mmm...?”

 

Their lips brushed. Right before Traxis sealed the gap, his voice turned brusque. “Pick up your kriffing towel.”

 

Of course, during the kiss that followed, there was time for no such thing. In fact, as Ares grasped the back of Trax's head, it seemed all they could do to remain upright. This kiss was bruising. This kiss was a shared prelude to an incoming symphony.

 

Ares' brain began to shut down as his testosterone took the helm. Beyond the feel of Traxis beneath his mouth and hands and the throb of his own desire, he was aware of only one thing: Trax's bed, not two steps away. With a single fluid movement, Ares broke the kiss, pulled Trax's towel free, scooped up his own fallen one with his toe and slung both toward the bed. Before Trax could protest, Ares placed a hand on the clone's chest and pushed him in the same direction.

 

“About-kriffing-time,” Trax murmured, and reached for Ares again.

 

His grip was firm, and as the clone fell to the bed, Ares tumbled down with him. Their mouths locked; they lay skin-to-skin, and Ares thought he would explode with euphoria as Trax's muscles bunched and tensed beneath his own. He braced himself over his soldier, his arms pillared on either side of Trax's head, and pressed his groin flush against the other male's.

 

When they came up for air, Traxis groaned. “For _fek's_ sake, will you give me your cock already?”

 

“As you wish,” Ares replied, smiling even though his breath was heavy. His dick pulsed in anticipation as he reached for the nightstand where Trax kept his lubricant. They'd each undergone tests not long after they started seeing each other; both were free of disease, so there was no need to use a condom.

 

All the better for Ares, as he wanted his scarred, beautiful soldier to feel every inch he gave. One dollop of self-heating, slick lube went over his cock; another, larger portion was for Trax. Ares shifted so that he sat up on his knees and gazed down at the man who waited for him so eagerly.

 

At the Twi'lek's look, Trax moved as if he were about to get on his hands and knees, but Ares stopped him with a hand on his upper thigh. “I want to see your face when I fuck you,” he said, squeezing the muscle. “Is that alright?”

 

Traxis groaned again; his eyes squeezed shut and his entire face flushed. “Yeah,” he managed, lifting his knees to his chest. “ _Fek_ , Ares...”

 

“Hold still.” Ares rubbed the lube between his palms to ensure it was warm enough, then reached for his soldier.

 

* * *

 

“I want to see your face when I fuck you. Is that alright?” Ares said the words so carefully, almost like he didn't know if Traxis would allow it.

 

The truth was, Traxis didn't know if he could last that long. The idea of Ares watching him as the Twi'lek buried his cock into Trax's ass was beyond sexy. It was... _shab_ it was kriffing romantic, though Trax knew he'd chew his own arm off before he'd admit the fact to anyone.

 

Anyone except Ares.

 

Speech had pretty much left him after he'd answered, so all he could do was pull his knees to his chest to allow Ares room to maneuver. His eyes had shut of their own accord, but when he felt the first, gentle strokes of slick heat against his asshole, he forced them to open. As much as Ares wanted to see his face, Trax wanted to watch Ares fuck him.

 

 _Fek_ , Ares was good at this. The Twi'lek's patience and innate compassion made him an extraordinary lover, one with an almost Jedi-like awareness of his partner's body. Ares placed one hand on Trax's thigh while he gently stroked and plied Trax's hole with his index finger. So gently. Trax bit the inside of his cheek but he couldn't help another groan, another wordless plea. _Fek_ , he was so ready for this. He'd been ready the moment he'd opened the door and seen Ares. Hell, he'd been ready the moment he'd heard Ares' voice over the comlink.

 

A second finger joined the first, probing, stroking. Electric veins of pleasure raced through his entire body, and Traxis thought he was going to die of anticipation; it all felt so _fekking_ good, but he wanted more. Needed more. His cock was throbbing, aching to be touched, but all he could manage to grab were the damp towels the Twi'lek had thrown on the bed.

 

Ares squeezed his hip again, and a third finger slid easily into his ass. Ares worked him a moment more, then leaned forward so that he was balanced on his free hand and hovering over Trax's face. His _lekku_ trailed down around Trax's ears.

 

“Do you want more, Traxis?” he murmured.

 

“Fek...yes...” Trax could barely breathe or think, let alone speak, as Ares continued to tease his asshole, circling the outer edges with his thumb, while three fingers pumped inside.

 

That quiet, cocky chuckle. “Then you shall have it.”

 

Ares shifted again, sliding his hand free. While he wiped off with the towel, Traxis lay panting on the bed, head spinning, heart racing, cock swollen and weeping. He watched as Ares knelt over him again, placing the tip of his dick at Trax's entrance, and pulled his knees to his chest once more. Ares placed his hands on Trax's shins and took a deep breath before easing himself forward.

 

Ares moved carefully at first, allowing Trax's body time to adjust. White-hot chills of pleasure and pain shuddered across Trax's skin, but he savored them. His breathing was even, his body relaxed and ready, and Ares entered him completely within a few moments.

 

This was the best part. Being filled to the brim, being as close as he could be with Ares. Trax opened his eyes and saw Ares watching him, his gaze filled with warmth and desire.

 

“This is good?” the Twi'lek asked, his voice hoarse.

 

Trax's only regret was that it was impossible to kiss at this angle. “This is kriffing perfect.”

 

Even now, at the height of his arousal, Ares was able to smile. _Fek_ , he was gorgeous, with his coral skin flushed almost red and the muscles of his arms taut as he gripped Trax's legs, like he was holding on for dear life. The Twi'lek began to move, slowly at first, though he picked up the pace at Trax's noises of encouragement.

 

Normally, Trax wanted to be fucked hard and fast, but he'd learned the value of a slower pace. So he dropped his head back and allowed sensation to wash over him while his Twi'lek lover moved inside his body. Trax groaned Ares' name again, and Ares responded by moving a little harder, a little faster. Trax could feel every inch of Ares' magnificent dick as it slid inside and out. Ares picked up the pace again, his balls slapping against Trax's ass, and the clone groaned again.

 

His cock ached; he wanted to take himself in hand but Ares had started pounding harder, and Trax actually had to grip the bed for stability. Pleasure rolled through him, electricity thrilling through each nerve, and he climbed higher and higher toward his release. A glance showed him that Ares' eyes had shut and his mouth hung open, as if an orgasm was upon him, so Trax reached for his dick to finish himself off.

 

But a hand covered his, then moved him out of the way. Using one hand for balance on Trax's folded knee, Ares wrapped the other around the clone's cock and began to work him, fast and hard. Perfect.

 

The world shrank to the fullness in his body, and Trax's head fell back. “That feels so _fekking_ good. _Fek_...Ares...”

 

“I'm about to – ” Ares didn't finish the sentence. He swore again, a string of words in a language Traxis couldn't identify, then leaned forward as much as he was able as his thrusts became harder and more erratic. He never let go of Trax's cock, though, and when Trax felt his body flood with warmth from Ares' climax, he found his own release.

 

The orgasm erupted through Traxis, making spots dance before his closed eyes as he released everything he was into Ares' waiting hand. He squeezed the muscles of his ass, hoping to milk the final remnants from his Twi'lek as to increase the pleasure wrought from Ares' orgasm, and he thought he called Ares' name again.

 

When he could open his eyes, he saw Ares leaning over him, panting and flushed, his cock still buried. Their gazes met, then Ares shifted so that his cock slid free, but it was only so they could kiss. Trax dropped his legs to the bed and wrapped his arms around the Twi'lek, pulling him down and shifting so that they were side-by-side. Ares murmured his name and deepened the kiss, pressing their sweat-damp bodies flush against one another.

 

 _Kriff,_ Traxis thought, _it just gets better and better. How is that possible?_

 

At last they parted, though their faces remained close. In the back of his mind, Traxis knew they should clean up, but all he cared about right now was the male beside him. Ares regarded him a moment before leaning up to kiss his eyebrow, where his scar crossed over his left eye.

 

“What's that for?” Trax asked, skimming his hands over Ares' left _lek_.

 

When the Twi'lek smiled at him, Traxis thought his stupid, _shabla_ heart would explode with happiness. Ares tilted his head and whispered in Trax's ear. “Because I like you.”

 

“Think I figured that out,” Trax replied, though he couldn't help but grin. “Guess what? I like you, too.”

 

Ares chuckled and leaned his head against Trax's chest, shifting so that his ear was pressed to the clone's skin. Traxis continued to stroke the _lek_ , and neither of them seemed inclined to move.

 

As he often did in moments of repose, Traxis took stock of his current state. It was a habit most soldiers – the good ones – had, and it had served him well.

 

Tired, obviously. Traxis smirked inwardly. He'd earned every tired muscle, and he was positive his coral-skinned companion was even more tired, judging from the way Ares hadn't moved.

 

A little sore, but in a good way, a way that would make him think of Ares for some hours yet – not that he was likely to stop thinking of Ares any time soon with the male curled up to him like this.

 

Warm. Content.

 

Happy.

 

The realization hit him that he'd been all of these things at one point or another in his life, but never all at once. Certainly never with the same person. _Damn_ , he thought, _a guy could get used to this._

 

So he exhaled and absently kissed the top of Ares' curving _lek._ “Ready for round two? Or is it three? Arithmetic was never my strong suit.”

 

Ares gave a muffled groan into Trax's chest. “I need...ah, another few minutes.”

 

“Well, feel free to stay right here in the meantime,” Traxis said, holding him closer. “I'm not going anywhere.”

 

At that, Ares tilted his head up to regard Trax. His smile was tired, lazy, but his warm brown eyes gleamed with delight. “Neither am I.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :D 
> 
> If you like this couple, check out "Stark Raven" on my AO3 page. If you want to see how they met, or read more about Trax, Ares and my other OCs, check out my fanfic dot net page: https://www.fanfiction.net/~laloga
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! Thanks again for reading, and don't forget to let me know what you thought. :)


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